But, Sal didn’t share. He didn’t talk about his family or about his past. He didn’t share his dreams for the future, if he had any. He was a closed book and I found myself on the outside trying to get in. Sal was a guy you took day by day, and at times, it hadn’t always felt like enough. But I loved him, God, how I loved him. It seemed like he wanted another shot, but could I seriously open myself up to him again and continue to feel like I didn’t get enough in return?
A knock sounded at the door interrupting my thoughts, and I uttered a soft “come in.”
Sal poked his head into the dark room, and I turned my head to look at him. “You could turn on a light, you know,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, I could,” I agreed simply, making it clear I didn’t plan to.
“I ordered a pizza. Come out and share some with me. We can watch a movie,” he ordered more than suggested. It had always been his way.
When I hesitated, he sighed. “I’m going to have to force feed you through a tube if you don’t start eating soon.”
I hated to admit he was right, and I rose reluctantly in my pajamas to follow him.
“Put somethin’ else on first,” he said, gesturing to my shorts and cami that I always wore to bed.
I looked down at myself in confusion. “Why?”
“Put some more clothes on,” he clarified somewhat tersely.
Well, this was off to a great start. I huffed, putting on a long sleeved thermal.
“More,” he replied when I moved to follow him.
“Jesus, Sal, it’s freaking hot. Do you want me to pass out from heat exhaustion?” I complained.
“Fine,” he bit out, turning his back to head for the kitchen.
“Wonderful,” I muttered to myself.
He’d ordered my favorite pizza, sausage and olive, which I had to admit, was thoughtful. Over beers and pizza, I loosened up a bit. I felt more relaxed, the beer helped.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked as he flipped through the channels.
I shrugged, not caring.
He settled on some action movie that had decent reviews.
I sat on the far side of the couch with my legs tucked under me and sipped my beer. He sat on the other side, his jean-clad legs crossed at the ankle and resting on the coffee table.
The sexual tension zapped between us as I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. I knew he felt it too, with how firmly he gripped his beer bottle. At least I wasn’t the only one. We’d never sat so far apart on this couch before. We’d watched countless movies here, but always with limbs tangled as we lay cuddled up together.
I must have fallen asleep at some point during the movie because when I woke up, I was cuddled into Sal’s side with his arm around me. I flinched and jerked away when I realized what I’d been doing. I guess my subconscious hadn’t gotten the memo that we broke up.
“Sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed.
“You can fall asleep on me anytime,” he replied with a glimmer of mischief in his eye.
“Don’t count on it,” I retorted, standing up and stretching. “Thanks for dinner, goodnight,” I said, anxious to make a speedy retreat.
I used the one bathroom to get ready for bed and crawled under his covers. Everything smelled like him. It was both reassuring and punishing at the same time. I tried desperately to find sleep, but it was weird sleeping in his bed without him. I could hear him shifting around on the couch, and I knew he wasn’t sleeping either. I stared up at the ceiling and ignored the throbbing in my neck that beat with the cadence of my heart as I tried counting sheep. My mind kept drifting back to the thought of Sal on his couch, probably just in boxers. My mouth ran dry at the thought. I forced myself back to those boring sheep.
A few hours later, I was desperate to fall asleep.Fuck it, I thought as I threw the covers back and padded out to the living room. His head turned to me immediately in the dark as I stood tentatively in the doorway in my shorts and tank top.
“Can’t sleep?” his deep voice inquired. His voice did crazy things to me, it always had.
“No,” I replied. Then I sighed in resignation. “This isn’t an invitation for anything,” I began sternly.
A broad grin spread across his face at my attempt to be firm.